Authors: B.N. Crandell
Invasion (11 page)
O’tukka looked around at Fort Dega. They had put so much work into this fort over the past weeks, preparing it for an outside attack. Now it had been attacked from the inside. Had they anticipated this eventuality weeks ago they could have been far better prepared.
The humans and dwarves had done a marvellous job in the short time they had but it would not last. The size of their opposition and the power they controlled was too much. Most of the buildings near the Gate had been destroyed and fires still burnt on others.
Tired looking faces confronted him wherever he looked and the injured were once again piling up and being prepared for the journey back to Arthea. The dead, too many of them, would not return.
He had not wasted many spells so far, knowing that his power would soon be needed. The last two assaults had been nothing but testing the water. The major assault would come soon and then the defenders would be most reliant on his spells as all the other magic users would be all but exhausted.
A warning shout alerted him that time may be upon him. Looking toward the Gate he saw ten necromancers step out accompanied by a shaman.
“Get back!” he shouted. “Ranged attacks only.”
His words were heeded too late.
The necromancers pointed their wands and let loose the power within. The Gate became hidden behind a cloud of blackness and a cacophony of coughing came from within.
When the cloud had cleared it revealed the ground carpeted with collapsed men and dwarves and by the Gate, nothing. The necromancers and shamans had vanished.
Shortly after, worg carts sped through and drove over the top of the sleeping army. The carts were accompanied by a mix of worg riders, necromancers, shamans, crossbow orcs and warriors.
This would be it. This would be the major assault and the defenders could not hope to stem the flow. O’tukka’s arms went into motion, stirring up the magical power within and calling upon the blessing of Gr’guck. Palm out and fingers heavenward he extended his arm and let loose the sonic rings he conjured. Gradually growing in circumference, they were half the size of the cart when they collided into its side and blew it off its wheels, shattering it into thousands of tiny pieces while the occupants were thrown through the air as the rings continued on.
The exploding cart attracted the attention of a group of shamans and O’tukka had to take evasive action as a flurry of magical attacks came his way. He recognised every one of them and it appeared obvious they recognised him as they scattered like ants when he released his counter attack. Even still his fireball weakened their shielding and when he followed it by a colour spray, hundreds of small coloured energy balls found their mark and burnt into flesh.
Three shamans collapsed and rolled around in agony and were soon finished off by soldiers. Those men were then enveloped with a black cloud.
“Don’t breathe it in!” shouted O’tukka. “And get out of it as soon as you can.”
Some soldiers at least must have heeded his advice as they came running out the back of the fog. A couple of them looked a little groggy and were soon helped away by others.
The necromancers would be limited to the wands they carried with them, but that would still be devastating enough. One good thing about the sleeping clouds was that the attackers couldn’t run through them either without being affected in some way so it forced them into a bottleneck again where a barrage of arrows and spells rained down upon them.
Knowing that beyond the black fog would be crowded with the enemy and any friendly soldier still within the cloud would be fast asleep, O’tukka hurled one of his powerful fireballs into it. The effort was rewarded by many screams and shouts. He moved to a new location in case any spells were sent back toward him, but none came.
The black fog dissipated revealing a quick moving shield wall. Often a brief hole would be opened up and a crossbow bolt fired out. O’tukka retreated to a better vantage point. He picked a spot on the wall near the main fort entrance and used a magical gate.
“Hurry. Everyone through,” he said to a group of nearby wizards. Once they were all through he closed the gate behind him, picked out two wizards and took them up the closest tower to get a better look at what transpired.
It did not look good.
Their front line had been breached in a few locations and skirmishes were breaking out all over the fort.
Chaos now reigned.
Worgs were running free with or without their riders and devouring all in their path.
Even more troublesome were the necromancers. They were releasing all manner of spells from their wands. Men rotted away to bone where they stood or broke out in painful blisters. Acid spewed forth from wands burning into the tender flesh of all unfortunate enough to be in the way.
“Target the necromancers!” shouted O’tukka at the wizards below. “Coordinate your attacks to breach their shields.”
Heeding his own advice, he picked out a target and pointed the black cloaked figure out to the wizards by his side. On the count of three they all unleashed lightning bolts and were rewarded with a minor penetration of the Necromancer’s shielding. It had been enough to knock the orc over but not kill him. An archer finished the job.
Despite their best efforts the attackers kept coming in great numbers and the defenders were tiring quickly. So Duke Angus’s call for the first stage retreat did not surprise O’tukka.
He was impressed as he observed the defenders give ground in an organised retreat to Fort Dega’s entrance and all breaches in the wall. Archers and wizards focused their attacks on the pursuing army to give them the time they needed. Men with tall shields and long pikes closed in behind the last of them and stood their ground against the attackers.
“Fire archers ready!” yelled Duke Angus. On the walls surrounding the fort, archers set fire to their arrows. “Loose!”
The air filled with burning arrows.
The first explosion almost knocked him off the tower.
He hadn’t even noticed the barrels earlier but he did now, moments before they were struck with fire arrows and exploded with a bang.
The heat became too intense and men, dwarves and orcs jumped from the wall to escape it. O’tukka formed a gate and hurried through it with the two wizards.
Fort Dega became a massive inferno and the screams of the dying within soon faded. Wounded defenders were carried off by any means possible, while archers moved as close to the towering flames as possible with soldiers close behind them.
The defenders were preparing for the next round.
O’tukka watched with interest at the discipline and organisation of the humans and dwarves. It wasn’t the first time he had seen it, but he now saw it from their perspective.
He remembered when the dwarves risked their lives in retrieving and helping their injured kin after his earthquake spell opened the ground beneath them.
He observed how the humans were willing to defend Fort Lowmount to the last man and how costly their defence had been on the little orcs of Ka’ton. He didn’t doubt that without the aid of General Krak’too, the humans would have successfully repelled the attack on that fort as they did with Arthea.
He also witnessed how human and dwarf worked together as a unit to fight their way to freedom against the army of the Red Axe. Their selflessness in battle made them strong. Like General Krak’too, O’tukka had always considered that a weakness but he now knew better.
Knowing that it’d be some time until the flames died down enough for the next assault, O’tukka went off to find a place to rest.
“You’ve been given visiting rights I see,” said Jeff as Gerard approached his cell.
“Yes I have, but I doubt for long so I’d better get to the point.” Gerard moved up close to the bars and beckoned Jeff to do likewise. “We have until tomorrow night to swear fealty to Sylestra or you’ll be sacrificed.”
“Well that is to the point. You couldn’t have broken it to me a little gentler?” Jeff smiled a crooked smile.
“Is there a gentler way?” asked Gerard.
Jeff chuckled. “I forgot who I was talking to. So I guess I’d better make peace with all my demons then?”
“I won’t let you be sacrificed to a wicked goddess,” replied Gerard a little louder than he intended.
“So you’ll submit to that wicked goddess’s rule instead?”
“I’ll do neither. We just have to move our escape plans ahead a little and change a few details.”
“A little?” asked Jeff incredulously. “We were perhaps weeks away from any semblance of a plan. An escape attempt now will be expected, which will make it harder to pull off. You know this, Gerry. It’s suicide for all of us.”
“You leave the details to me and be ready to go at a moment’s notice.”
“It’s not as if I have anything to pack,” replied Jeff with a chuckle. Typical Jeff humour when in trying situations.
“I need to know if you discovered a way out in that tunnel you found.”
“Perhaps, but you’re going to need a hammer and chisel and a good length of rope. A couple of dwarves for working the rock wouldn’t go astray either.”
“Can you tell me how to get there?” asked Gerard.
“How good’s your memory, old fella?”
“Good enough.”
“The fort is burning. The flames are too hot for us to make it through and would group us together to be slaughtered anyhow.” General Jak’ho grimaced as he spoke.
Sylestra could see the relentless defence of the humans and dwarves took its toll on him. “Then we wait a few hours until we attack again,” she barked.
“It’ll be growing dark by then on their world.” General Jak’ho bowed his head as she scowled at him.
“The Gate provides light and I’m sure they’ll have torches burning. We can’t allow them to rest or our losses will be greater. Two hours. No more.” Sylestra marched off and pulled out Zaydok’s enchanted whistle and gave it a blow. Within minutes orcs were scattering to make room for the mighty beast’s landing. She mounted him, buckled herself in and flew to Gnash.
“It is nice to see you returned, Supreme Mistress,” said Biv’rak with a bow. “I was not sure when to expect you or I would have arranged a better welcome.”
“No welcome is necessary. I have simply come to hear how plans have been progressing.”
“Very good. Follow me and I’ll have food prepared for you while I fill you in on all that I know.” Biv’rak turned and started walking off so Sylestra took up step beside him. “Would you like me to send for General Iptar in case he has more recent news?”
“No. I don’t plan on staying long. The news you have will suffice.”
Biv’rak led her to a small, richly decorated dining room and left her for a moment while he organised dinner.
“Your dinner will be sent in shortly,” he said when he returned.
Sylestra nodded. “So what news in the north?” she asked when he took a seat opposite her.
“All went well. Nothing more than a minor skirmish by all reports. The Red Axe must have sent a token force at Qunik expecting some sort of trap. Our forces cleared them out quickly and our reinforcements have arrived. The north is more secure than it has been for many years.”
